Handcuffs for you
by mycroft's mystery
Summary: See what happens when Watson gets really angry at Sherlock and doesn't want to help him with his cases anymore. Clever Sherlock uses his handcuffs! Rated M for swearing and later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

„Your order, Sir."

A big, steaming pizza was placed right under John Watson's nose.

John glanced at his watch.

Really, damn this man. He was already half an hour late and there was no sign of him at all.

John sighed. Considering his situation he decided, it would be best to eat now or else his pizza would get cold and he felt like he was starving.

"Thinking about your date from last night?"

Sherlock gave him an inquiring look.

"What?" John didn't understand.

"You had a date last night which wasn't successful and that's probably why you sighed just now.", Sherlock stated with confidence.

"Sherlock, that isn't the problem!" Watson got angrier with every word.

"Oh, so you got a problem? Interesting, tell me more about it?"

"The problem is that you are half an hour late, Sherlock!", Watson yelled.

All the guests in the restaurant had turned their heads to watch Sherlock and Watson.

"Where were you anyway?"

"I was buying new fiddlestrings at Bond Street. I really want to play the violin today. Maybe Bach?" Sherlock's thoughts were drifting away. He was staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. He noticed the victorian flower pattern made of moulding.

"Sherlock! Are you listening to me at all?" Watson barely managed to not grab him by his collar and shake him.

The waiter appeared.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I think it would be best if you leave now."

"Come on, John. I think, Mrs. Hudson ist waiting for us already."

"Yeah, whatever.", Watson mumbled grumpily. There was no use telling Sherlock his opinion.

The next morning, John was already at the kitchen preparing breakfast.

Right when the bread jumped out of the toaster, Sherlock descended the stairs.

Sherlock ruffled through his hair and yawned loudly.

"John, you're already up?"

"Pardon me, Sherlock, but it's already 10 am." John glanced at him suspiciously.

"I think I'm going to bed again. Still to early for me when there is not even one case waiting to be solved by me." One wouldn't believe the messy guy in the pyjama was the famous Sherlock Holmes.

John sighed. He was sighing a lot these days. Really unusual for him.

So, breakfast alone.

Boring…

Just about when he grabbed the newspaper, Sherlocks mobile phone was ringing.

"Sherlock, you got a message!", John yelled in the direction of Sherlock's room.

"Answer it for me. I'm busy!"

"It's Lestrade. Seems he got a new case."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sherlock nearly fell off the stairs while running in the kitchen.

The message was:

"Found a dead man in Bath. Looks like murder. Please come to the crime scene as soon as possible. We need your advice on this. Lestrade."

"Seems we're going to Bath today, John. While I change into my clothes, you check the train departures from Paddington to Bath."

"Excuse me, Sherlock, did you say 'we'? Because I'm not going anywhere." John didn't even bother to look up.

"What do you mean? Do you feel sick?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine as long as I'm not together with you who always get's me into unnecessary trouble."

"Oh, is that so? OK, then I'm going alone. It's OK that you leave all the fun to me."

John arched an eyebrow. No objections? Something wrong with Sherlock today? Apart from the things that were obvious? Weird.

"John, I need your help. Could you please come to my room?"

Heaven knew what it was this time! And goodbye peaceful breakfast!

John ascended the stairs. Through the opened door he could see fully dressed Sherlock. Wait, why did he wear only one shoe?

"Really funny. New experiment or what?" He pointed at Sherlock's left foot.

"No. I don't do experiments with myself. I accidently managed to get this shoe under my bed."

"And for what exactly do you need my help?"

"Could you please get it for me?"

"I'm not your houskeeper! Get it yourself!" Mrs. Hudson's attitude seemed to rub off on him somehow.

"Well, you see, I'm too tall." He made a dramatic gesture in order to underline his words.

"OK, OK. I do it." Looked like the only chance to get the peaceful breakfast atmosphere back…

Watson crawled under the bed carefully trying not ot hit his head. He could already see the shoe. Only one grab away…

Click!

What was that? Watson leapt up and hit his head.

"Ouch. Jesus Christ."

"You OK, John?"

"No. My head hurts like I was knocked down by a truck."

Slowly he made his way back with Sherlock's left shoe in his left hand.

"Thank you, John."

Wait! Sherlock Holmes actually saying thank you? There must be something terribly wrong here! And if he recalled right, hadn't he also said please? Oh, very suspicious.

"Sherlock, what-"

John tried to rise up from the floor when he noticed his right hand was handcuffed to-

"Sherlock! This isn't funny! I'm not one of your fucking experiments!"

John tried to focus his attention to the handcuffs. There was no doubt. He was handcuffed to Sherlock!

**Please rate and review! Constructive criticism please! No flames!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Sherlock, where is the key?" John fussed with finding the key.

"What- Oh! You're searching for the key!" Sherlock grinned from ear to ear.

"What are you smiling for? Give me the damn key!" Watson started to panic.

"Now that you mention it: I think I lost it." The calm attitude of his flatmate was jarring on Watson's nerves.

"What the hell…? I can't believe this is happening! So, you call yourself a genius? Then go and search for the fucking key!"

Sherlocks mobile phone was ringing again.

"Oh, seems Lestrade is getting nervous because we aren't there yet. Looks like the search for the key has to wait." Sherlock seemed to be perfectly happy with the development of the situation.

"As I said before: I'm not leaving the house today." John made himself comfortable on Sherlock's bed.

"Oh, John. Are you really that stupid? You have no choice. You gotta follow me everywhere until we have found the key."

"Finally, you arrived, Mr. Holmes.", Lestrade greeted.

He was standing at the crime scene with Donovan. A few metres behind him, Anderson and colleagues examined the corpse. The corpse had been found deep in Bathampton Wood right next to the Bath Golf Club and the University of Bath.

Sherlock was heading towards them with Watson right behind him.

What was that?

Donovan noticed first.

"Very interesting. I know you're a freak but I didn't know you were into THAT…" she said, glancing at the handcuffs with a smirk.

"And I didn't know you were involved with the executive management. Judging from your knees, as always."

He knew it would have been better to make Donovan stay in the office. But he really needed her assistance to handle this case. On the other hand, without Sherlock's help, the case wasn't likely to be solved either.

"Donovan, would you do me a favor, please? I need a coffee to go."

Reluctantly, Donovan started her journey to the next coffee shop.

Phew, situation defused. Nice trick, Greg.

"And now to you: What are you doing there? Is this some kind of game?" Lestrade was bursting with curiousity.

What a pity, Lestrade. Your such a nice guy but I won't tell you my real reasons, though.

"It was an accident, to be correct. I was checking if the handcuffs still work with Watson as my help and suddenly the key was lost. Didn't had time for searching it because a certain someone was waiting for us."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for you. I hope you'll find the key soon." Lestrade managed to stifle a laugh. This was too funny. Preferably, he had made a photo of them.

Lestrade cleared his throat.

"So, this is the victim. His name is William Frost. He is 42 years old, single, no children, worked as an archaeologist here in Bath. His residence was in London. The problem is there are neither signs of foul play neither did he commit suicide. We need to wait for the forensics report."

Sherlock kneeled next to the dead. He was 5 feet 9 inches tall, had a half-bald head and round spectacle frames. He noticed the dark circles under his eyes. But that wasn't the most remarkable thing about William Frost. The most strinking fact was that his eyes were opened wide. Judging from his terrified facial expression, he had probably died because of fear.

Lestrade had been right. The victim had not even a single bruise on his tanned skin. Sherlock deduced his tan was due to a journey from which he had returned just recently.

"Have you found any items at the crime scene?"

"We found a pocketknife in his jacket, his wallet, an umbrella, his keys and a straw basket. Seems like he was out in the woods searching for mushrooms."

"Can I see his wallet?" Sherlock quickly rummaged through it. He couldn't find anything unusual.

"Do you have any further information?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.

"Not yet. We are currently trying to contact his employer, the British Museum."

Watson was getting more and more impatient. He desperately wanted to find this stupid key!

"I'll call you then. Maybe some news tomorrow." Lestrade saw them off.

Yes! Finally a chance of being released from the handcuffs.

Be prepared to read what "evil" Sherlock is up to next! ;) Poor Watson...

**Please rate and review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

With a wave of the hand Sherlock got a cab. The driver chuckled when his passengers were getting in.

"Don't tell me, I think I already know were you're going.", he said, while looking in his rearview mirror to observe their reaction.

John didn't react at all. He didn't have the strength to anymore. Not after this awful morning. This was definitely the worst day in his life. Everybody was making fun of him. And what the hell was wrong with Sherlock anyway? He really wished for the ground to open to swallow him up immediately.

Sherlock seemed to be very curious about what the cabbie had to say.

"So, what do you think our destination is?"

"That's so obvious. You're going to visit a sex shop."

What? John couldn't believe what he just heard. Maybe a conspiracy between the driver and Sherlock? Bullshit! The cabbie must be nuts. He couldn't imagine Sherlock would be going for something like this!

"Yes, you guessed it right. So, please move off now.", Sherlock demanded.

His flatmate didn't seem to be troubled at all.

John noticed Sherlock's cheerfulness rose inversely proportional to his desperation…

"There we are. That's five Pounds thirty." The cabbie tapped his head to the two of them.

John looked around. They were really standing in front of a sex shop!

It wasn't that he never had visited one. But visiting a sex shop with Sherlock was far more than he could imagine. First, there was the basic question: Was Sherlock even a sexual being? And second, if the answer was yes, what was he?

"John, we're going in." With this, he was dragged into the building.

He was astonished the shop was open yet since it was only 1 pm. The answer was right above him: A neon sign telling him it was a 24 hour sex shop. Great…

Behind the door the shop owner was already waiting.

"Hello, Gentleman. Can I advise you on something?" A bit too helpful for John's liking…

John cleared his throat.

"I don't think we need advise. By the way, do you sell universal handcuff keys?"

"Hahaha. Really funny, Sir. Of course, not." The owner seemed to have a laughing fit.

Sherlock didn't seem to pay attention to their talk.

He looked curiously at the sex toys displayed on the shelf in front of him. John felt the urge to leave immediately.

"Sherlock, you were the one who wanted to go here. Are you done yet? Can we go now?"

"So many interesting items here. I think I'll come back some other time. Goodbye, Sir."

Sherlock and John exited the shop.

John couldn't help but wonder why Sherlock hadn't bought anything though being so interested in these things.

"Why haven't you bought anything in there?" The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop.

"Because I am already well-provided with these things."

**I know it's not a very long chapter, but I hope you had fun reading it, though.**


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